This is the final chapter, hope you've enjoyed reading!

# # #

"Rex? What's wrong? Where's Anakin?" She pressed her hands flat and hard against her chest, trying to stop the frantic fluttering. My baby? Where's my baby?

"Nothing's wrong, my lady. The General told me to warn you that the baby is sleeping." Rex held one finger across his mouth, smiling slightly. "Don't wake him."

Is it Luke? IS IT LUKE? She wanted to scream but Rex moved aside and her husband appeared on the flickering holo. He was holding—

She covered her mouth to stifle a cry. She could barely see through the sudden onrush of tears, but Anakin was smiling— smiling– in a way she hadn't seen for years.

He was happy. Anakin was happy.

He was smiling.

It was Luke!

Padmé sobbed, using both knuckles to wipe her eyes. Behind her, Kix exclaimed in a whisper: "Finally!"

"That's what Luke said." Despite the shaking transmission, she could see tears running down Anakin's cheeks, sliding into the corners of his smile. He twisted slightly so the sleeping bundle in his arms was visible.

She couldn't see her baby's entire face. It was half-buried against his father's tunic and his thumb was in his mouth. His hair was sleep-mussed, and she leaned closer, trying to see more. She craned her neck until her nose touched the image and made it jiggle.

"Just like we thought." Anakin answered what she hadn't asked, his eyes and voice alight with joy. "His hair is blonde, his eyes are blue— Padmé, he knew me! He woke up and looked at me and knew me! He came straight into my arms and went right to sleep."

"Oh. Oh." She pressed her fingers against her lips. He was real. Their son was real. Anakin had him, Anakin would keep him safe until she—

She needed to be there. They had to go faster. "Kix!"

He shook his head. 'No, my lady. You know you can't do hyperspace. He'll still be there when we arrive."

The words made her shiver. She'd thought her baby would be there when she'd delivered him. She'd thought she'd be awake. She'd thought she'd hear his first cries. She'd thought she'd be the first to hold him. She'd thought—

"Be brave, my love, for just a short while longer," Anakin's image whispered. "I'll keep him safe. I'll tell him you're coming, and we'll both be waiting for you." He kissed the top of Luke's head as though he was passing on her embrace, then the transmission ended.

Padmé stared at the empty space for a moment. She sat back and swiveled the chair to stare at the stars as they crawled past, fingernails digging into her palms.

# # #

"Can't let everything go to hell while I sit around jawing," Owen Lars grumbled as he left the next morning.

Rex looked at Beru, who returned an impassive glance. Obviously she was used to her husband's gruffness. His behavior seemed harsh to Rex, but the homestead itself was cozy, the rooms comfortable in a sparse way, the atmosphere calm and steady, so he accepted that little Skywalker had been raised with love and strong ethics. Maybe more than he would have had with his young parents. The thought felt like mild betrayal, but he'd seen more than one youngling spoiled by wealth and a doting family. And as near as he knew, there had never been one raised by a Jedi and a former Queen.

"I'll start baking for lunch," Beru said, rising and wiping her hands on her skirt, giving him a small smile. "My specialty. I hope you're hungry. It'll be around an hour or so."

He almost said he'd have ship's rations but if she was offering a home-cooked meal— "Thank you, ma'am."

He roamed the place, telling himself he was checking security, but in reality he was curious to see what a common home looked like. As he suspected, the furnishings were plain and sturdy and many were homemade. Furniture, some rough-hewn, some carved and sanded smooth, a few store-bought. Some decorative painting on the walls and on the rails of a baby's crib that now held potted plants. He wasn't sure why the place made him feel wistful.

He peered into a mechanical shop that was equipped in a way that the General would approve of, then wandered until he found a room that had the only rug he'd seen. His General sat on it, cross-legged, arms resting on his knees, palms up, listening intently as he accepted everything the child was offering.

"-an' see? This's Buggo. Unca O made him an' Aun' B'ru made his clothes 'cause he has lotsa legs."

"He certainly does. How many legs does he have? I see one, two—"

"Fwee, four, five! More legs 'an me!" Luke shoved Buggo at Anakin while he waved another figure. "An' this is Senny, she don't haf clothes. Just a blanket." Luke pulled the hand-cut brown fabric from the toy's head and lowered his voice to a whisper. "She's naked!"

The General grinned. "Well, we're all naked under our clothes, right?"

Eyes that looked so much like his father's widened. Luke looked at his father, then at Rex. "Eve'ybody? Even you an' Uncle O an' Aun' B'ru? Even sojers?"

"Even soldiers."

"Huh." He took Buggo in his other hand and studied both toys, then put them carefully on the floor next to the very ugly (though obviously well-loved) plushie that he'd carried earlier. "Even bant'as?"

"Banthas don't wear clothes. Except when they go to bed. Then they wear really big pajamas."

Luke broke into giggles. "Jammies! You silly Daddy!"

"Yes, I am. And you're very smart!"

"I know." Luke pursed his tiny lips. "Did you bring jammies? Where you gonna sleep?"

"Sleep? Well, it's not bedtime yet, but I guess I'll sleep on the ship."

Luke shook his head. "No. You maybe fly away. You sleep in my bed. I sleep on floor." He looked at Rex. "You sleep in ship?"

"Yes, I'll sleep in the ship. General, is there anything I can get you? Before the lunch that Mrs. Lars is making. Her specialty," he added for no important reason except that he was salivating at the idea of real food.

His General's lips quirked like he was fully aware of Rex's motivation. "Just check the perimeter again, Rex. But be back in time for lunch."

As he left, he heard the little voice declare: "Aun' B'ru makes good lunches. Does you make lunches? Does Mommy make lunches?"

# # #

After their meal, Luke refused to go to his room to take his usual nap. Instead he cuddled into Anakin's arms again, yawned a few times, then fell asleep. Anakin nuzzled his little face, feeling long baby eyelashes brush his cheek with every breath, like the wildflower petals Padmé used to toss at him in happier times, when they were falling in love.

There were so many thoughts in his head, he couldn't sort through them because too many feelings were in the way. His precious baby. His son. Finally found. His wife on her way to them. A family. His family. He wouldn't allow them to be parted again, not even for a day. Not even for an hour. They belonged to him, and he would protect them from now on. If the war reignited and came too close, he would build a secret fortress on a planet no one knew existed and hide them there. If the Jedi wanted him back, they would not have him. If the Senate wanted Padmé back, they would not have her. If her parents demanded they stay on Naboo, they would— for as long as it was safe. As for Owen and Beru…. They weren't his family. They weren't even Luke's family, though they'd pretended to be. But they'd kept his son safe and healthy, so he would take care of them whether they stayed on Tatooine or came along.

He glanced at the chron. Padmé would arrive in a few hours. He would have to give up Luke then, for a while. She would want to hold him— both of them— and wouldn't want to let her baby out of her sight. That was fine, it's what he expected, it was proper. But he was Luke's guardian. They shared the Force. He and his child were bonded from birth, and now the bond was becoming stronger. He'd never felt anything like it with anyone. Well, perhaps to a lesser degree with Jedi. And with Obi-Wan, though their bond had lessened with distance and maturity.

Now he had this little one, this tiny creature who belonged to him. The baby he would raise with love and encouragement as his mother had raised him. His child who would never leave him. His son who would always look up to him and rely on him and be his baby forever.

Padmé would be a wonderful mother to his son. He loved her. Luke would love her.

But Luke would always belong to him first.

# # #

Sentry raised her child over the dune so it could see the ship arrive and settle outside the homestead. It had been a long journey back here, but Her of the Desert had whispered that she should make the trip. Her child had to see the Magic Baby so when the Legend was repeated, her baby could say proudly that it had met the Magic Baby. They were both Children of Her.

Two Humans emerged from the ship. The female ran to a tall male who was holding her Magic Baby. The woman snatched the Magic Baby into her arms and pressed kisses on its face while it squirmed. Sentry could not hear the words. Man and Woman emerged from the Dome. She was glad they were still here and not dead.

Another man came from the Dome. There were too many people. Her Magic Baby might be trampled if the new woman set him down. But wisely she continued to hold him.

None of the Humans looked like they were from Woman's and Man's Tribe. Did they intend to steal her Magic Baby? She set her own child in the sand and lay her rifle along her other side, then pulled out her binocs.

She studied each Human. Two of the males were very important because they were the same, born together from one belly, a rare blessing in any Tribe. Man and Woman stood close together holding each other while they watched. The way they stood gave Sentry an uneasy feeling, like her eyes might form tears and waste water though there was no reason to grieve.

The other female— Oh. This was her Magic Baby's Mother! It showed in the way she held him and twirled and cried and laughed. The Mother should have been with her Magic Baby in the ship. But then she would be dead. Sentry wished she knew the whole story, but Her of the Desert would tell her the Legend so she could tell her Tribe.

Sentry glanced at her one little one who had fallen asleep. Life was a series. Things happened that were expected; things happened that weren't. She was glad her Magic Baby had his Tribe. That was the way of Her of the Desert, even with Humans.

She raised the binocs again to look at the other man. He was tall and lean and had both arms around Mother and Magic Baby. He must be Father then. It was not the way of the Tribe, but for the Humans this was as it should be.

Father turned his head toward her dune as if searching. Sentry gasped and dropped down. Had he seen her? He was far away; it shouldn't fill her with fear. He was only the Father, no one important.

Cautiously, she shifted onto her elbows and focused the binocs on him again. He was touching the Magic Baby. Slowly he moved his head and looked back at her. He couldn't see her from this distance, it was not possible with only his eyes to see, and he had no binocs. Sentry held herself steady and readjusted the binocs until she could focus on his face.

It was pleasing. His features were strong and his eyes—

His eyes were the color of the sky when a storm rolled across the night desert, sending lightning from the clouds.

It was Him.

The Demon With Sky Eyes.

Shaking, she collapsed flat. After a few seconds, she recovered from the shock and slipped the binocs back onto her belt. She had to take her child and leave this place quickly.

She'd been right from the beginning. Her Magic Baby was a Demon Baby.

It was good that the Tribe hadn't kept it.

#END#